


Bright Star;

by c000kiesandcream



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comet - Freeform, Galactic AU, M/M, Star - Freeform, Stars and Comets falling in love, The most metaphysical AU in existence, This is my fave AU, and inevitable ~angst, based on art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-10-29 14:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10855542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c000kiesandcream/pseuds/c000kiesandcream
Summary: Yuuri is a star, sparkling brilliantly in some far reaches of the galaxy.One day, his lonely life is changed, when a dazzling and brilliant comet enters his orbit.Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.





	1. Stardust

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the fic and the AU that will be the death of me.
> 
>  
> 
> **The Major Character Death Tag is not what you think, I promise it isn't as traumatic as ~~PS I Love You~~ you think it is~**
> 
>  
> 
> This started as a work dedicated to the gorgeous artwork created by [Moose](https://butleronice.tumblr.com/tagged/galactic-au), which you absolutely need to check out if you want to appreciate the fic in its full capacity! This would not have happened without this artwork, and of course the endless tears over how beautiful our star and comet truly are.
> 
> What was initially intended to be a simple 2k fic turned into this extensive butchering of everything we know about astrophysics, but indulge me just this once. This is now a love story in three parts, and will be posted alongside the comics as they are released!
> 
> Summary quote from ['The Old Astronomer to His Pupil' by Sarah Williams](https://www.naic.edu/~gibson/poems/swilliams1.html), and the title is taken from this [Keats poem](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44468).
> 
> Enjoy the galactic feels, and as always, [come and scream with me over how heart-wrenching this fic is.](http://star---dust.tumblr.com) ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

If, on a quiet, clear night, you decide to stand on the hill by your house, or the rooftop of your building, you will see the light of a thousand stars, light years away, burning bright against the black night sky. A play of light twinkling and dancing before your eyes while the moon travels lazily across the sky is yours for the taking. A telescope will earn you a closer look, one which will show you the stars that streetlights drown out in interference. Patterns and constellations trace a map across the sky, and, like the ancient astronomers of a bygone era, you too will stand in awe of the brilliance of stars, of planets, and, if you're lucky, even comets.

Centuries have passed, and yet the stars remain unchanged, fixed and bright and constant.

Humans have a funny way of naming the things they find, as a way of claiming ownership on beauty. They pay their way in poetry, art, and science, ages and generations creating a wealth of paintings and poems about the celestial beings they can never truly own, pretending that, while their brush traces their trajectory across the sky, or their words burn with all the passion of a supernova, the brightest star shines just for them.

We named these bodies stars, and planets, and comets, and galaxies, treating them like living, breathing entities while they light the sky.

But the truth of the matter is that most of these stars have long since burnt out, shining brilliantly for billions of years only to fizzle and collapse on themselves, scattering hundreds of millions of miles across their portion of the galaxy, colliding with neighbours and crashing into planets. The brilliant night sky glows with the light of the dead.

A supernova will only be visible to us if it happens in this galaxy, of course, but they are much more common when the stars are close to each other, and spend most of their lives living in an anxious, unstable state. Stars, contrary to popular belief, are terribly shy, and while their light can outshine a cold, dark night, it’s difficult to get close to a star without the stress burning sunspots on their surface. And while a supernova may be beautiful, it is also an incredibly painful experience for the star in question, who, having shrunk in size, is awfully sensitive to the nuclear fusions burning in their core, flaring and searing until the final crack.

What the paintings and the poetry fail to recognise is that the stars in those gorgeous distant galaxies have already burnt out. Either in a supernova, or in a simple fade to black, their story ended millennia ago, and the light that's inspired a thousand figures has long since been extinguished.

But that doesn’t mean the story should end there.

This is the story of a very young star, who fell in love with a comet.

Or rather, how a comet flew into his lonely life only to leave him hanging on for a thousand years.

This is the story of a man who was burnt every time he tried to get close to his love.

This is, for all intents and purposes, a love story.

✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:*

When Yuuri was born, he was formed, like all stars, from a nebula.

He was pulled together by the gases and atoms that happened to inhabit the same pressure-cooker space of the universe. The local stars could feel the tug on their own atmospheres, as dust collected and organised itself in a brilliant display. Great pillars, not unlike those that lined the Colosseum, towered around his tiny form, pulsing under the weight of the gravity building within. Walls climbed higher still, wide around the child, slowly folding down, and down, as he grew stronger, pulling himself in. The closest stars too pushed further, encouraging and hoping that soon they would have a new protégé.

Purple, green, yellow, and grey pulsed harder, for longer, with every passing moment, slowly folding, again and again. The other stars couldn’t see through the dust cloud, but in the centre, slowly, surely, as it always was, the atoms had started to melt and mould.

Suddenly, as though a switch had turned itself on, the dust collapsed into itself, clearing the air for one second before scattering in an explosion of light and colour.

A tiny star inhales the dust clouds and throws them out into the abyss.

Excess dust dissipated, cast aside by tiny limbs, kicking, wailing, expanding and growing, hot, bothered, and burning dazzlingly bright compared to his peers, who had stirred from their slumber in the chaos. Patiently, they watched, occasionally pushing with their own gravitational fields to help that patch of the universe settle quicker.

Spiralling helplessly from this forceful act causes a star to feel stressed and unstable, still unable to control the gravitational pull acting on its core, condensing matter and growing hotter still. Bursts of energy threw matter out at the neighbouring stars, and they ducked and weaved, patiently waiting for the baby star to settle, to start burning, to shine.

The newborn star slowly levelled out, internally fusing atoms and creating elements playfully, hydrogen barrelling around inside the dense core while brilliant dust threw itself into gorgeous patterns. All it knows is the gravity surrounding it with a dazzling display of light and atoms, dancing and twirling, safe and secure despite the building pressure and the panic.

But the dust clouds that envelope the child for hundreds of thousands of years can’t hang around forever.

Eventually, the dust settles again. No more does the atmosphere pulse and ache with the compression of the star. Towers and castles formed of rock and dust fall, collapse, crashing into the sun that they cradled for so long until they become nothing. In their wake is a sphere of burning gas, cocooning the young star while they try and figure out what they are.

Now the star can finally start to burn properly. Nuclear reactions fuse atoms deep in his skin, in his chest, sparks flying across his skin and into the flames that circle his being. Orange, yellow, and dark auburn clouds his vision. He can’t see. Before his eyes, brilliant and vibrant flames lick his skin, surrounding him in a spherical display of light and sound. For a while, he wanders with his eye across the ever-changing system circling above his head. The patterns that span the space he calls the sky slowly melt, and collapse, and reform, only to crash and spiral out to nothing. And this is all he knows for the first few billions of years of his life.

But, eventually, the colourful flames are not enough. The soul of a star always longs for more.

Pushing with his hands, swiping away the flames that circle before him, his fingertips brush the aura, only just, and he tries again, stretching as far as his arms will allow. Still, the flames only kiss his fingertips, playfully evading his touch. Frustration ripples in his chest, reflected in the dark red orb that confines him. His limbs stretch, push further than they can reach, and he shouts out, the noise bouncing off the fiery walls and hitting him back, the walls fighting back.

In that moment, he realised that he had felt nothing but the pulsing heat that surrounds him. Never has his skin felt anything more than his own touch, and the immaterial atmosphere that circles his form. This elicits a groan deep in his chest. His head falls into his hands, and he tries to focus on the external reality he is presented with.

It doesn’t work. An unsettling emptiness rattles through his core, and slowly, like flowers opening in the spring sunlight, dark brown and black sunspots blossom across his skin. The atoms that are usually bouncing gently around his stomach, the ones that generate the great heat that is his very being, burst into life, angrily pounding against every inch of his skin.

And he starts to panic.

Swimming through the dense atmosphere, but still going nowhere, Yuuri can feel anxiety rise in his chest, wrap around his throat, snake tighter and tighter, hot, and burning. The place he calls home is suffocating, horrible, lonely.

But, suddenly, something breaks the surface, piercing and sharp but soft and delicately displacing the flames he himself has tied around his chest. This brilliant flame, hot white and concrete carefully caresses his chin, his face, folding around him in a gorgeous embrace which he melts into, allowing the foreign flame to fill his being with light.

The message hidden deep in its core echoed in his ears.

_ Well done, Yuuri. You made it! Now you get to shine bright forever. _

The warmth of the message settles deep in his chest, glowing through his swirling surface, and tinging his cheeks with dark amber sun spots. As the message faded, he spun around, twisting on the spot, desperately searching in the deep black for whatever had brought him the message. Still, he is too bright, and he cannot reach the edge of his sphere. The panic is gone, and in its place is the frustration that comes with inexperience.

Again, in the same space that the first flame appeared, another flame, more violent this time, rips through the swirling gases surrounding him, suffocating him, revealing a patch of dark black nothing in the distance. Once it has cut through the sky, it reaches Yuuri, turning his body so that he is facing a new, untouched space.

_ Try and snap your fingers, Yuuri. _

He looks down at his hands, slender fingers clenched in anxiety and stress. They look nimble enough, but he isn’t sure how to use them for such a light action. He is used to the tension that paints sunspots up his arms.  Slowly, though, as the speaking flare settles in his skin, the darkness turns to light, fading and melting across his skin. Bright orange flames displace the auburn spirals had settled deep in his skin, running down his arm and out into his fingertips.

His fingers wriggle as he stretches them out, the heat emanating from his palm distributing itself more evenly across his hand. Naturally, as though his muscles already know what he needs to do, his fingers curl, thumb pushed into the pad of his middle finger, before it slips and snaps against his palm.

A spark dances into life at the friction, causing Yuuri to jump, and laugh. He tries again, this time pushing harder and causing the spark to burst upwards, over his head and up to the cloud of burning gases above him. Slowly, from the new hole, black stretches across, opening his cocoon and connecting the holes created by the mysterious message.

The web connects itself, the gaps created by Yuuri and the mysterious voice slowly expanding wider to reveal that Yuuri’s orange sky was never the sky at all. After a while this process slows, until eventually the holes stop growing. His sparks do nothing more to help him see, and he tries to reach out but still he cannot quite reach the aura.

Slowly, he realised there must be something that he is missing. Why could he still not see?

He looked around, and out into the expanse of nothing, when the realisation hit him. He was too bright, and that was why he couldn’t see very well. The orange light that he couldn’t help emitting was distorting his vision, but he had no way of changing it.

The thought of the world that was just out of reach for him inspired a new wave of anxiety, and a fresh skin of sunspots as he sank down, crossing his legs and resting his chin in his hand. Subconsciously he pouted, a sigh escaping his lips as he mourned his situation.

When he was smaller, his aura lowered with him, and he felt it tug slightly when he sat down. His eyes widened, and he looked around at the space he hadn’t broken with his snaps.

Could he control his shine?

He closed his eyes, and probed the air with his mind. He could feel the pulsing, the flames, burning and glowing. It felt physical; he had never noticed that he could flex and move the light that concealed him.

Carefully, thinking hard, he imagined the balloon of gas surrounding him contracting, not as violently as it had during his birth, but calmly, delicately. It yielded to his touch, as he stretched an arm out to clear the space before his eyes. As he wiped the sky, dots sparkled and glittered in the distance, first a couple, then ten, then hundreds, until the distant stars lay sprinkled across the black expanse like sugar on the kitchen surface.

It was clear to Yuuri that he was not alone.

He shot to his feet, twirling, pirouetting on the spot until he could see, was that a hand waving at him? The closest star was still much further away than he had hoped, but he could just make out the shape of a slender figure, twirling and dancing the same way he did, hands outstretched as she playfully threw flames above her head, and circling her aura.

Yuuri waved in response, laughing into the void. He couldn’t quite believe that there was someone there. The realisation sent a flutter of hope across his chest, stretching out through to his fingertips, completely erasing the sunspots that still littered his skin. For the first time since his birth, the stress that lay deep at the core of his very being was briefly forgotten. He was not the only one.

Still she danced, waving and flaring, until she slowed down, balling her hands and raising them to her head momentarily before throwing it at Yuuri. Amazed, the same brilliant flame danced across the darkness between them, drawn to Yuuri by his impressive gravitational field. When it reached him, it snaked around his chest and arms, embracing him lovingly while the same feminine voice filled his ears.

_ I’m Minako, and to your right is another sister star, Mari. Behind you, there are more. Hiroko, and Toshyia. We are all here, Yuuri. If you want to talk, just whisper and throw, but make sure you aim high and far! _

The message faded, as did the comforting warmth of the flare. Yuuri turned to see another star that appeared to be close to him, again dancing with the same solar flares as the larger star Minako. Delicate white ribbons twirled and glowed as she cast her hands out into her atmosphere, throwing them high and wide around her. Yuuri smiled, turning back to Minako and whispering into his palms. Hot air warmed his fingertips, captured in his clasped fists. When he was finished, he held his flare gingerly in his hands, amassing the courage to throw it out into the void.

It wriggled against his fingers, hot flames licking his skin as they tumbled around. Before he could hesitate, he extended his arms, thrusting his fists through his atmosphere and out into the great wide open. It worked, and he could feel his aura stretch with his words, trailing across the vacuum, eventually pushing through Minako’s own thick skin.

He could hear her breathing when it reached her, and his heart fluttered with excitement. Still, attached to his hands, the interference from her gravitational field shook his resolve, and slowly the flare separated from him, strand by strand peeling from his skin. He let go, and it flicked a tail that ricocheted around his aura, darting ahead to Minako’s space.

What else could he do? How many of them were there? Would he ever be able to see her in person?

Minako and Mari, with the help of the older stars just behind Yuuri, spent three billion years telling Yuuri the history of their world, of the great expanse that they occupied. Souls and stars crossed the galaxies they spoke of, expanding and retracting over millions of years. Time in the universe is a funny thing. A million years can feel like a few short hours, the kind that pass you by too quickly while you’re having tea with friends. The stories they told warmed Yuuri to his core, and they took turns exchanging flares to answer his many questions about the histories he learnt.

They spoke of the galactic battle that brought the universe to life. The Big Bang was a war that lasted seconds, the scattered shells creating the vibrant patterns of the galaxies we know today. Slowly, billions of years after the conflict, stars started to form from the debris, collating and sparkling one by one until countless entities flared back and forth, telling tales of the war that brought them to where they were. The stars remained alone for a long time, but slowly other bodies started to form, utilising the stars’ strong gravitational fields, allowing them to remain fixed in an arc at a distance from the too hot core. Solar systems slowly, eventually, pulled themselves together, and lived and pulsed thanks to the bodies of heat generated by the stars.

After billions of years of conflict, the cosmic clock was winding back, allowing the inhabitants a peaceful and consistent life. Stars burned, and glowed, and planets thrived, and rotated, and lived. Satellites even floated down to the planets that were big enough, and the cogs that churned to keep the universe flowing clicked into place, bringing the stars to their way of life today.

Yuuri was amazed by these vibrant histories, told not through the voices that tickled his chin as they spoke, but through a brilliant play of images flashing through his mind as the flares flickered in front of his eyes. Impressive structures made up the universe, and their particular piece of that great whole was known as the Milky Way. Called so due to the gorgeous ribbons the stars arranged themselves into, this galaxy fit like a corkscrew, fronds of stars shooting outwards from the dense centre. Yuuri and his family were located fairly close to the centre, where the stars formed close to one another. The further from the centre the stars lived, the lonelier they were. Relief filtered through Yuuri, erasing some of the sunspots that burned across his skin, grateful that he was not entirely alone.

The stars surrounding Yuuri made a cluster,  _ kazoku _ , a whole. They rotated and relied on each other to shine, and to hold their cores together. Of course they had their own fields to focus on, but together they made a brilliant collective light that, according to Hiroko, was visible all across the galaxy.

No, he wouldn’t be able to move outside of his gravitational field, it would be physically impossible, but he could communicate with the stars closest to him using solar flares. He would never feel more than the warmth of a flare against his skin, or his own swirling aura. But that didn’t mean he would never have any celestial bodies flying into his gravitational field, passing by for a fleeting visit, or even staying to live with him more permanently.

Minako herself had a few comets that visited every few centuries, and Mari had a couple of close planets, both with a handful of satellites. Some of these bodies would be like Yuuri, and they would be able to communicate with him, but he may not understand them at first. Different celestial beings spoke in a number of languages depending on what part of the universe they inhabited. And Yuuri may never know what they wanted to tell him.

But that didn’t mean a thing to him.

He anticipated the day that something new would swim into his vision. His nerves were trained outwards, into the invisible field that surrounded him. His field infiltrated Mari’s, slightly overlapping her invisible line, so that he could feel the pulses of the planets she had mentioned. The large rocks that swung themselves around her, one fairly large and the other slightly smaller, sent vibrations through the field to the three little moons that played around their miniscule fields. Yuuri could barely feel the planets’ music that echoed through the vacuum when they danced close to Mari, who engaged them in play and song. This he could hear, and he practiced his own songs with Minako, while he waited for his own visitors.

The songs that play between the stars are not unlike the songs we have on earth, lilting choruses and beautiful tones, bleeding into the atmosphere and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Sad, lamenting poems dripping with emotion, causing splotchy black sun spots to burst against the skin of the terribly melancholy star singing them. Vibrant melodies that tug on your muscles, free flowing rhythms dancing across time. Tone makes all the difference, but the songs Yuuri learned from Minako only inspired his vocal chords to drag, and mourn, because while he understood the happier tunes, he couldn’t feel them properly.

Despite his neighbours, he was alone.

As he spins, and sings, dark patches spark against his skin, dimming his already paled light, the warmth that should be flaring into his atmosphere internalised and seething deep in his chest. He longed for the day that a body would visit, to interrupt his loneliness, to play with him like the planets played with Mari. His swirling aura mocked him, holding him prisoner in a gorgeous play of solar flares, but he couldn’t think about anything other than his crippling loneliness.

Billions of years passed, slipping by unnoticed by the relatively young star. Minako and Mari continued to shine brighter than he did, still singing and training with Yuuri. Hiroko and Toshyia, too, offered flares and encouragement. They were much larger, and they struggled to dance, but as they were relatively closer together, they spent much of their time singing to each other. Yuuri grew accustomed to the love songs played out between the two stars, and quietly sang the notes to himself in his trademark melancholy tone, watching the black expanse that led to the rest of the galaxy wistfully.

Yuuri himself grew more and more impatient, painfully aware that he may never have a visitor. Logically it would make sense that he, a tiny red dwarf, would be side-lined by the significant spirals of Mari and Minako’s fields, the sun-like stars glowing far brighter than Yuuri. Still, he hoped and waited, miserable and desperate.

That is until, one fateful day, something flickered behind him, rippling vibrantly across his gravitational field, and flowing through his fingertips, settling warmly in his chest. He froze, momentarily, wondering what could have caused such a disturbance in his field.

But then, he remembers, and his song stops for him to turn and stare at the entity careering towards him, fast as it can, slowing slightly at the resistance offered by Yuuri’s gravity. Yuuri feels an urge to tug, to help whatever it was into an orbit, that’s what Minako had called it. Imaginary lines appeared before Yuuri, as he watched the trajectory of the silvery being, glittering against the dark backdrop of space.

A tail, longer than the thing itself, trailed behind it, gorgeous and glowing, and fading faster than it appeared to Yuuri. The space around this glowing white entity faded to a deep dark blue, a new colour that Yuuri had never seen before. Stardust sparkled and separated in the air that it travelled, pushing and pulling against Yuuri’s gravity, until it settled on the path that Yuuri traced, safely guiding it around him. Still, Yuuri couldn’t see what, or who, it was, but the closer it got, something inside Yuuri danced, travelling along his skin, settling in the base of his spine. The face grew into focus, and the something that rendered Yuuri motionless too caused his voice to fail.

Whoever they were, they were gorgeous.

Pale blue skin, littered with the light of thousands of tiny ice diamonds, reflected Yuuri’s starlight, rays bouncing off his body as it moved gracefully through the atmosphere. Yuuri watched as they approached, long, silver hair trailing behind, along their spine and out into the abyss from which they had travelled. As they approached, closer and closer, Yuuri could make out the face that smiled at him through the space, the soft hand that waved ahead of him, releasing a silvery trail as it was outstretched towards him.

Their individual forces lined up completely, and this gorgeous entity fell into Yuuri’s orbit.

As they approached, they waved again, bowing and smiling brilliantly at Yuuri, whose skin flushed with red hot sunspots in response.

The entity whispered into his hand, before blowing it forward, like a kiss, into Yuuri’s face, where the cloud exploded with the words of a language that was beautiful but impossible for Yuuri.

His first visitor and he couldn’t understand him.

He shrugged, and shook his head, and the entity, who was now being carried entirely by Yuuri’s orbit, sat, cross legged, finger pressing into their cheek, thinking. Not once did their eyes leave Yuuri. Pursed lips pondered further, watching the gentle flicker of the star’s aura, and the star’s hopeful eyes, until the penny dropped and an idea sprung into their mind.

Stretching their arms, and reaching up to fully extend the limbs, the being started to trace a conversation in the sky.

Drawings formed where the ice at their fingertips melted to vapour, leaving a trail slightly fainter than their tail, detailing daring adventures and far off lands. As they continued across the sky, Yuuri watched the drawings that hung in the space that his orbit had taken this gorgeous being. Circles, with strange markings, and small dots scattered around them, and then another diagram showing arrows and lines to explain the orbit of something small, and bright. Once this one was complete, they pointed at themselves and then the drawing, and realisation dawned on Yuuri’s face.

He had his own comet!

Delicate patterns followed this realisation, and Yuuri sat and watched the brilliant pictures that glittered in his light. Amazing symbols Yuuri had never seen before danced before his eyes, and he glanced to see the first pictures they had drawn were slowly melting in his heat.

Years passed, and together they showed each other, through diagrams mostly, what they knew about themselves. Yuuri traced smoke, burning from his fingertips explaining how he had come to be, but the comet’s drawings were far more detailed. Planets and constellations that they had travelled through littered the sky around them, and Yuuri wondered how long the images would last.

Once the comet was rested, they stood up, remaining in orbit, and held a finger out in front of them to signify that something was about to happen.

Yuuri watched with bated breath, waiting, until the comet moved.

Music flowed through their arms, throwing crystals into the air as they danced, fluid and vibrant in an arc over Yuuri’s head. Years passed, but they felt like minutes, the train of vapour flaring from the comet’s hair, and face, captivating and mesmerising. Before he knew it, his time was up, and his comet was growing smaller. The tail had circled all around him, slowly pulling away and further into his gravitational field. The pictures had vanished, fading into shadows, and then nothing. Yuuri turned back to his comet, whose face stared back forlornly, longing to stay.

Yuuri cupped his hand, whispering his name into the palms, the words tickling his fingers. He released it immediately, trying to save the comet from burning at his words. He melted slightly as the flare shot past, a brief whisper into the void, fading to black before it had even left Yuuri’s gravitational field.

Giggling musically, the comet copied Yuuri, whispering into his hands and throwing the words back at him, the vapour blowing up in his face, the words dancing in his ears like a song.

_ Yuuri. Victor. Yuuri. Victor. _

The refrain was repeated as it faded in his ears, the light from his comet still glittering in his field. He could feel the ice of the crystals his comet had left for him, the gentle trinkets melting as they succumbed to Yuuri’s involuntary flares of excitement.

Suddenly, from behind him, a flare wrapped around his neck, playfully tugging him to turn to his sister star, who was laughing across the distance between them. Yuuri sheepishly waved, as Hiroko’s words filled his head, replacing the memory of Victor’s name song.

_ Oh Yuuri, your first comet! He should be back soon. _

Another flare from another star flickered across his atmosphere, and he laughed at the words that filled his space.

_ Yuuri, Yuuri, your first comet! What was their name? _

Yuuri whispered his answer into his palms, holding the words until they tingled along his skin, and pulsed in his forearms. Carefully, so as not to lose the words to the flames, he split the phrase, holding them tightly in each individual palm before throwing the strands in two different directions, the gorgeously unfamiliar name dancing faster and more vibrantly than any other flare he had sent out into space.

_ Victor. Victor. _

A song built in his chest, and twirling through the barrelling gas surrounding him, the tune and the words burst from his lips, throwing his field into the brilliant heat that he knew he could burn to. Mari and Minako joined his song, harmonising beautifully with the words and music that played out for the best part of a millennium.

As the song faded, the diminuendo no longer reaching his sisters, he twirled and watched the space that Victor had travelled through, imagining a twinkle against the black expanse as he grew impatient.

A thousand years was longer than Minako had had to wait for her comets to return, and he was starting to worry. As anxiety ate away at the energy reserves floating around him, the heat started to internalise again, and sunspots again surged across his skin, darkening the orange and red significantly, until he felt the familiar tug of a solar flare, gently caressing his shoulders comfortingly.

_ He will come. _

Yuuri sighed, and lowered himself into a sitting position, quietly singing the familiar melancholy tune that had brought the comet into his orbit the first time, delicate notes reverberating through the dust that circled him, scattering and circling the air through which they floated.

Behind him, as it was the last time, he felt something pulse in his gravitational field, and he whipped his head around and smiled.

He was back.

A large grin shone on Victor’s face, his hands stretched in front of him as he flung himself through the darkness that separated them.

Yuuri threw himself into the space, tracing the trajectory he had held in his mind’s eye for the entirety of Victor’s absence. Victor approached too quickly, though, and slightly overshot the orbit Yuuri knew was safe for him. As the sunspots faded from Yuuri’s skin, he burned brighter, and hotter, and as Victor drew himself back, Yuuri could hear some muttering through the air.

_ Hot hot hot hot! Ack! _

Victor’s hands crossed in front of his face, shielding the sensitive crystals that glittered on his skin, and Yuuri tried to rein in his heat, while pushing with his gravity to stabilise his comet. After a moment, Victor flipped backwards, pushing up out of orbit briefly and then settling in his usual curve. Relief rippled through Yuuri, erasing the sun spots that had pulsed in his skin for fear of losing his comet to his heat.

He forgot that he had understood the comet’s muttering.

Victor giggled, shrugging playfully as he settled down to sit, carried by Yuuri’s gravity. Energy flowed between them, Victor’s own tiny gravity daintily pulling against Yuuri’s field. The comet’s hair trailed into the tail that drew tracks over the invisible orbit lines in Yuuri’s mind, and Yuuri smiled widely at the brilliant patterns.

Victor’s hands were cupped in front of his face for a long while, concentration etched onto his face as he considered his words carefully. Finally, he listened to the words before casting them down, the vapour expanding and closing over Yuuri’s head, the glitter weaving and playing with the strands of fire that made up his hair.

_ Yuuri, star, Victor, comet, hot, ice, dance? Song? _

Yuuri grinned at the star, who had now stood up, arms outstretched, inviting him to dance.

And Yuuri bowed, before clearing his throat, and allowing the music to flow through his core.

The notes that escaped his lips echoed out for light years, touching the stars that had never heard or met him, who barely knew of his existence. The galaxy shook, and suddenly Yuuri and Victor were dancing through the tune at the centre. Worlds and stars turned to hear, the song of love that echoed hundreds of miles out into the abyss, shaking and feeling despite being unable to even see the comet that was the centre of the song.

Music that echoed from the centre of Yuuri rang loud and clear in the ears of the comet, who spun and twirled in his orbit. Arms and legs moved fluidly with the song that resonated across the space that separated them. The crystals that glittered in the star light started to glow, and his tail pulsed with the light that ran through its core. For years, for seconds, their respective pieces of the puzzle that fits the universe together were connected, they were one and the same, unified, if only for this brief encounter.

As the orbit was completed, and as the halo that hung around Yuuri’s head was closed, the song grew softer, quieter, slower, as did Victor’s movements. His dance spoke not of the distance that he had travelled to get to Yuuri, but of the two of them dancing, turning, making music with every fibre of their being.

The notes hit a low, and as Victor started to leave, his body carried by the natural trajectory that threw him into the void that stretched to the far reaches of the galaxy, he turned to face Yuuri through the tail that glowed brighter than it ever had before.

Hands clasped desperately in front of his face, scrambling to throw the words out to Yuuri, and the whisper that nestled in the crook of his neck that the vapour flew towards, offered reassurance, and safety.

_ My Star, My Yuuri. _

And with those final, fleeting words, Yuuri’s comet was gone.

Sitting, contemplating, the sunspots that littered his surface started pulsing, and expanding, and for the first half of his time away from Victor, the other stars left him be.

This time was longer than the last. Yuuri could feel his core, unsettled and unstable, burning through reserves at an alarming rate to keep his sun spots blossoming across his skin, burning deeper and harder than he ever had.

He missed his comet, the one that was learning how to speak to stars so that they could communicate. Clearly, obviously, the star liked him. It was evident, that while Victor twirled and danced gracefully around him, not once did their eyes ever leave each other. And Yuuri had never sang a song that was so powerful, that caused him to shine the way he knew he did when he looked at Victor.

The first half of the lonely millennium was the hardest, but Yuuri knew his time with Victor was slowly drawing in, and that once again he would have the light and dance that filled his whole body with that warm glowing feeling that had nothing to do with the nuclear fusions pulsing through his atmosphere.

True to form, a millennium after their musical encounter, Victor flew into Yuuri’s gravitational field, this time pulling himself into a more natural orbit, for fear of being burnt. Before Yuuri could greet his visitor, his gentle voice flew through the atmosphere, landing cool in Yuuri’s ears and erasing the sunspots that kissed his skin.

_ Sing for me, Yuuri. I want to show you something beautiful. _

Yuuri was stunned to silence, amazed that he could understand his own language in the comet’s lilting tongue, the words free to play around Yuuri's head while he watched the gorgeous silver glow of Victor’s skin.

He stared, watching, and his comet grew impatient.

_ Yuuri, a song! _

Yuuri was shocked again at the voice that rang in his ears, the cool cloud that descended from Victor’s lips, battling against the hot elements that tried to drown it out. Of course, they never did, and the language that Yuuri could understand resounded clear in his comet’s delicate voice.

_ How can I understand you? _

Yuuri whispered his question, and again released it hoping that it wouldn’t burn too much. Victor dodged the flame, turning his head to listen to the words that passed dangerously close to his face.

He noticed that as his flare had shot out of his aura, it caused Victor to shine brighter, if only for a moment. But the brighter he shone, the less time Yuuri would have with him. Victor was ice, and Yuuri was a flame. They were terrible for each other, of course, but that didn’t stop the longing for intimacy from aching in Yuuri’s chest.

He turned back to Yuuri, before catching his words and kissing the vapour down to him.

_ I practiced for a thousand years. _

Yuuri blushed with hot sunspots, the embers flaring in his cheeks.

His very own comet, who he had waited for, who he had pined after, had learnt how to speak to stars.

They watched each other, Victor’s smile playing at the corner of his lips while Yuuri considered the song he would sing for his comet.

Victor, who wanted to start already, threw his arms out, tracing huge arcs above and below his head to create an image of a gorgeous sphere, with strange markings and patterns. Yuuri watched these images as they appeared before his eyes, and felt the song rising from the base of his spine, a song he barely knew about forbidden planets and distant lands.

The story of a planet with strange satellites unfolded before them both. The planet was strange, and reflected the light of its sun in such an unusual way. Brilliant colours danced across the poles, the invisible handles of the spinning top that spun round and around systematically, like clockwork. Blue, green, and vibrant purple danced for miles above and around the clouds that separated the light from the base of the planet, and blended with the blue oceans that covered it. Patches of green, and white, broke apart like puzzle pieces floating across the water.

Victor was captivated by the glorious light that he had never seen scattered like that, and he pondered over the intricacies that came with such an unusual planetary composition. Yuuri’s song shook the images as they hung in the sky, vibrating but solid despite the vapour that was their very existence.

_ I would love to visit it, one day. _

_ Perhaps you could? _

A laugh escaped Victor’s lips, and he shook his head.

_ If I visit that planet, I will never visit you again. _

Silence flowed faster than the time they had left together. And it was neither awkward nor sad. It was simply knowing.

Yuuri had known all along his comet was special. Not only was his hair much longer and far more beautiful than those that Minako had spoken about, but he continued to visit Yuuri even though he was merely a red dwarf. By nature, he should have been drawn to Minako, or Hiroko, their respective fields much larger and far more powerful than Yuuri’s own modest gravitational pull.

But there are some laws and rules that don’t apply to the atoms that are desperate to return to each other.

Souls cross skies again and again in the galaxy, as we see them from earth, flying for hundreds of millions of miles searching and longing for the atoms they were fused with before the Big Bang. There are millions of reasons and papers that will tell you this is not the case, but, according to all known laws of physics, Yuuri’s beloved comet should have burned out long before he could become attached to him.

And Victor, too, could not explain how easily he had heard Yuuri’s sad song from all those lightyears away, as though a thin, but powerful thread had held them together, waiting until the other half had formed before forcing them into orbit with one another.

Something unspoken, and far more powerful than any mathematical equation, brought the two together. But the same cannot be said for the end of their story.

But, of course, that will come later.

The knowledge that the two were to be as they were filled the remainder of their time together during that particular orbit. Victor watched and swirled spirals of vapour to cut through Yuuri’s thick exterior, always pushing through to reach the core of the star within. Yuuri’s chest fluttered with the feeling of the cool vapour against his skin, that splashed light colour into life across his shoulders, his chest, his hands and cheeks as he caught every plume that descended through his lonely atmosphere.

Eventually, as always, it was time for Victor to leave.

As Victor was levelling out, Yuuri felt a pulse in his atmosphere.

Suddenly, from behind him, a flare tickled his ribs, wrapping around his arm and turning him briefly to face Minako, who sent another little flare that landed square in his face. The voice was urgent, as though she had rushed to help Yuuri. The flare reached his ears, and it whispered something that Yuuri really had known all along.

_ Yuuri. Smoke doesn’t burn. _

He turned back to the confused comet, who wondered why Yuuri had turned away from him when they were only allowed this brief window of time together. Yuuri closed his eyes, and imagined the act of smoke signals as he had drawn them for Victor the first time he had visited, and his fingers traced the patterns before him with very little effort. Where the smoke left his skin, he could feel the play of atoms battling to burn the quickest beneath his skin, leaving a tingling sensation that traced the curve of his arm. His skin glowed red, molten and changing as the smoke spiralled upwards, towards the comet who was now arching over his head.

Unsure, and unconvinced that this would even work, he held a finger up to his comet, to show that he was going to try something new. Victor settled into a sitting position, watching his star as his face contorted with concentration.

From his lower arms, an imprint of his hands formed like columns of smoke, grey and insubstantial, reaching up to caress Victor’s face. Trails of grey smoke followed, cast down on Yuuri as the fingertips traced the shape of Victor’s cheeks, his eyes, his lips, and laced with his hair that, upon contact, unleashed a rain of ice down to Yuuri. Yuuri could feel, through his gravitational field, the change in Victor the second his hands reached him. Victor softened, melting at his touch, although not literally, like he usually did.

Slowly, though, the smoke dissipated, disturbed by the gravity holding Victor in orbit. Victor sighed, leaning on his elbow and watching Yuuri playfully.

But what he hadn’t realised was that their time was now definitely up.

Victor could feel the tug as he was pulled out of orbit, his tail having looped around Yuuri, and he stretched his arms out slowly, stretching into the movement that carried him away.

_ Until next time, Yuuri. _

And he was gone, a silver streak across the sky. Yuuri beamed out at his comet, extending a brilliant show of flares to see him off, hoping Victor had turned to see them.

Again, behind him, a flare snaked around his shoulders to turn him around.

_ Would you like to dance with him next millennium? _

Yuuri involuntarily shot a flare upwards in excitement, pushing out a confirmation flare to Minako, who quickly convened with Mari, before sending him a visionary flare.

This flare showed Minako, the same as Yuuri had, glowing in concentrated bursts as her skin started to smoke, dark grey circles hovering above her head as she stepped backwards and out of her second skin.

In her place stood a carbon copy of Minako, exact and perfect, a vision of light grey swirling with interference delicately as it swept her hair aside. As Minako twirled, so did the shadow, and she kissed out to the flare, as the shadow did, implying that Yuuri would be able to do the same.

Excitement pooled in Yuuri’s stomach, atoms bouncing against the inside of his skin as he clenched his fist and tried to recreate his image in smoke.

Mari sent a flare this time, telling Yuuri it won’t work if he tries too hard.

Yuuri sighed, and closed his eyes. He tried not to get ahead of himself, trying to contain his excitement and frustration at how easy Minako had made the imprint appear. He worked through the better part of that millennium, with tips from his sister stars, and managed to form his arms, then his torso, and then his legs, and finally, the hardest part, the head. The first full Yuuri he had made turned and watched him, and gently Yuuri touched the smoke figure, surprised to find it held well, yielding only slightly to his touch. Weirder still, Yuuri could feel his hand touching the arm of the shadow form, which sent a shiver down his spine. But once he pushed past the weird, he realised, that if he could make this with Victor, he would be able to dance with him.

He would feel his comet properly.

The more he tried the easier it was, and his body didn't reject the motion as much as his first attempt. Much like his solar flares, he could feel the faint pulses of his smoky characters, and while he knew that he would never hold Victor in his fiery arms, he would have to make do with the soft touches of his shadow self.

The final few years dragged for Yuuri, but, as it always was, Victor sparkled into life out of thin air, shooting through the sky as fast as he could fly.

Excitement rippled through his atmosphere, and he couldn’t help but sing to wile away the final few years before his comet returned.

A silver spark shone in the periphery of his vision, and Yuuri turned to see Victor, barrelling towards him at breakneck speed. He shot straight into his gravitational field, screaming and laughing as he approached his star.

_ Yuuri! Yuuri! I learnt a new move! Wait! No! _

Yuuri tried his best to catch Victor as he flew way past his usual orbit, and he just managed to stop him from flying straight through the field.

Instead, Victor continued to travel at the same incredible speed, catching the tail end of Yuuri’s personal pull, and whipping straight around Yuuri, like a slingshot.

_ Yuuri! Yuuri! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! _

Yuuri sent a flare to the sky, shouting out, trying his best to comfort the comet which was sobbing as it barrelled away from Yuuri’s gravitational field.

_ It’s okay, Victor! I’ll still see you next millennium! _

And, as the comet faded into the distance, Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh to himself. The sunspots that had collected across his skin had still faded, even with the brief visit from his comet. And he continued to practice his moves with his smoke self, dancing in tandem and tripping twice as himself and the shadow. His voice sang out to his field, stardust dancing along with the playful tune that Yuuri was writing for his comet, and his shadow self grew stronger and easier as the years passed.

This millennium passed far quicker than the last, mostly because Yuuri worked hard to perfect the same moves he remembered of Victor. He twirled and turned, and Minako sent a few more flares out to watch his dancing close up. Of course she could see the pillars of smoke that spiralled from the star, even at that distance, but she was amazed when she felt the pull of the dance that Yuuri engaged in at the centre of his flames.

_ Wow. Yuuri, that’s amazing! _

Yuuri turned, and sent a flare straight back.

_ Do you think he will like it? _

Minako sent a handful of flares up above her head in agreement, and Yuuri copied her for a while, playing with the full extent of his gravitational field to hold the flames in patterns and prints against the black backdrop behind him. They play for a while, for a few hundred years, until suddenly, behind him, Yuuri can feel something approaching.

And this time he is ready.

His gravitational field had already stretched to its limit, so much so that he can hear Mari singing with her planets. He listened to the soft music playing out and rippling against his own gravitational field, watching the silver sparkle approach at a much more manageable pace than last time. When he finally reaches Yuuri, Victor falls straight into orbit, pulled close by the imaginary rings Yuuri has traced for him to follow.

Victor beamed a smile across the blackness between them, and Yuuri’s face stretched into a smile too. His heart skips a beat, and he almost forgets his plan for this visit.

_ Hello, Victor. _

Yuuri sent a smoky message up to Victor when he reaches the correct distance, and the smoke cloud ripples as it touches Victor’s ears. Victor involuntarily cocks his head, shoulder rubbing his cheek bashfully, and his cheeks glowing with – was that a blush?

Another gentle smoke ring broke through his atmosphere, spiralling up towards the comet, who snatched out with his hands to pull it closer, faster, longing to hear his star’s words.

_ Would you like to dance with me? _

Victor’s brows knit together in confusion, and he lowered himself into a sitting position, considering the logistics of a dance. He wanted nothing more than to pull Yuuri into his arms, to twirl and shine with the star who would inevitably be the death of him. He could show him the dance of the blue planet, one of his favourites.

Meanwhile, deep in the centre of Yuuri’s burning space, Yuuri closed his eyes, as he had several times over the course of the millennia he had had to wait for Victor, and tried his best to contain the extra heat that emanated from his skin during the process.

First were his fingertips, smoky pillars climbing high from his form, travelling along his skin until his hands were free of the pattern he had created. Surrounding him in a dark grey cocoon, smoke circles bounced from his body, out behind him, upwards, and thrown into the dark beneath Victor. The comet watched, mesmerised as the star was completely concealed in the smoke he generated from his skin.

An imprint of his body slowly slipped from his form, dark grey smoke billowing around him as he focussed on himself, peeling a layer of smoke off his body like a second skin. When he was finished, the form shot up, a train of smoke following from the gas, crossing the distance between himself and his comet. Victor shot to his feet, and when the smoke form joined him, he reached with his hands to gracefully pull the smoky Yuuri into a dance.

They twirled for years, and Yuuri watched the shadow of himself playing with the comet’s gorgeous hair and skin. They spun around for hours, for days, holding each other close for the first time since they had met.

Yuuri mustered all his strength to hold the figure together, gravitational waves pulsing from the centre of his being and bouncing off Victor’s graceful form. He could feel the curve of his legs as he danced, the soft snow that was held together by the ice crystals glittering across his skin yielding slightly to the smoky brush of the figure that moved with as much vigour as the comet, and from Victor’s very core, Yuuri’s waves felt a pull so strong he could almost feel himself being lifted out of his gassy prison.

But, of course, that didn't happen.

Victor fell into the final puff of smoke before it disappeared, laughing playfully as he nearly fell out of orbit. His skin shone brilliantly as he drew nearer to Yuuri, involuntarily pulled closer by Yuuri’s own gravity that was supposed to be holding his orbit.

Of course, as always, their time was drawing to a close. This visit had been the fastest one yet, lost through the years of laughter, of gentle music, and the feeling of Victor’s arms around Yuuri’s waist and in his hair while they spun through the glitter that infiltrated their scene.

Victor was slowly reaching the end of his orbit, and sadness cut through the space between them.

_ Yuuri. Thank you. _

_ Victor, hurry back. _

_ I will. _

As his tail flicked out into a straight line again, following his form as he left his orbit, Yuuri collapsed backwards, caught by the flames that burned brighter than they ever had.

Yuuri knew he was in love.


	2. Commas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, finally, chapter 2! Just over halfway through, but the story is not yet over.  
> Of course, as always, this is for [Moose and her wonderful and tragic Galactic AU!](https://twitter.com/i/moments/857941467280494593) It goes without saying this fic would _not_ have happened without her and her gorgeous art!  
>  She also convinced me to get a [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/_yayyas) so come hang there as well as on [Tumblr!](http://star---dust.tumblr.com)

✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:*

For several millennia, year after year, Yuuri waited for Victor, and before either of them could say anything to each other, they would burst into life, colourful flares reflecting off Victor’s gorgeous skin as they glittered and shone in a dance and song that was both sad, and wanting, but hopeful, and loving. The notes settled warm in Victor’s chest, guiding his arms to spread, to glow, as he inched closer and closer despite the strict orbit Yuuri willed for him.

And most of the time, Yuuri would join Victor in a column of smoke, dancing across the distance to touch his comet, to run his hands across the icy diamonds that glittered and shone more vibrantly than all the stars in the galaxy, at least according to Yuuri. How he wished that Victor could be near him properly, how he longed to hold his comet in his fiery hands, to dance and play with the solar flares that made every fibre of his being. Helium and hydrogen crashed together in his chest and rang loud in his ears despite his song, creating a flutter that rippled through his skin as he fell deeper and deeper in love with his comet.

They didn’t speak very often. They knew that their love story was better told through Victor’s gorgeous dancing, that traced ribbons across the sky with his sparkling tail, and his fiery eyes. The flames that threatened to burn Victor when he passed were reflected brilliantly in the large teal pools that were his eyes, and his own small gravitational pull had an effect on Yuuri that the star could not explain. He felt as though his chest, his hands, would rise when Victor pulled playfully, only slightly, as though the atoms that made up his full form were drawn to those that held Victor together.

Their love story was better told through Yuuri’s song, the music their bodies made, both real and ephemeral, and the song that echoed for hundreds of miles into their brief space of the universe. The notes that reached further than they had ever hoped, and the constant noise, the constant movement, allowed them to ignore the truth of what was in their future. The stories that Yuuri had heard had always come to an end, and every book has a final page, every song a final note, every love story a final kiss.

For now, though, Yuuri was trapped both by the fiery ball of gas that surrounded him, and by the restraint he forced himself to show when Victor flew into his orbit. He couldn’t risk drawing their story to an end before its time, and the longer he held Victor far away the better.

So every time Victor pulled, testing Yuuri’s resolve and his limits, he never won. Yuuri’s willpower was greater than Victor’s, as was his gravitational pull, but with every exchange of power, Victor shined brighter. His hair glowed brighter, grew longer, his skin glittering and pulsing with a vibrant aura, so bright that Yuuri couldn’t see the blackness that separated them. The light that glowed between them grew more and more intense with every passing visit.

Yuuri loved his comet. He loved his laugh that rippled musically across the invisible orbit lines Yuuri traced for him. He loved his long and silvery hair, sprinkled with stardust and diamonds and so precious that Yuuri would sooner burn out than see the light of his life extinguished. Victor’s long, slender limbs moved in tune with Yuuri’s songs, pulling the shadow Yuuri into a dance for two, lifting him above his head, twirling with the form so that they were wrapped in his hair, and if Yuuri closed his eyes, he could see through the smoke at the black and white image projected of the comet’s face close to his.

It took a lot of energy for Yuuri to project himself into the shadow, and he only had what felt like seconds before the image disappeared, the weight of Yuuri’s consciousness too much for the insubstantial form to hold. And so, Victor would unravel from the cocoon of his hair, eyes tinged with disappointment but still smiling down at the star that was his and his alone.

Years passed, and they fell into this rhythm.

After a while, Yuuri decided he wanted to give his comet something new. He wanted to learn a new way to show his love, and he wanted to do something that would inspire his comet for the next millennium they would spend apart. He had mastered his shadow form, and he could follow the steps that Victor offered for him. But still, he wanted more.

He worked up the flare that he needed to send out, speaking audibly into his fists and throwing the dazzling embers out into the expanse of darkness. They snaked through the dust and debris that lay scattered between himself and Minako’s large orb. Her colours were unusual, and unlike the other stars in the cluster. Her colours matched closely to Victor’s, only they were much brighter, and far more violent when they flashed out into the darkness. She had spent so much time with Yuuri, helping him work out how to create gorgeous light shows with the flick of a wrist, the snap of a finger, and he had followed every lesson diligently.

Yuuri would practice his dancing with Minako, learning new songs that she taught to her own comets, and growing stronger and stronger in his smoky form. Victor would disappear, learning of new distant lands, of planets and satellites, all throwing dance moves out to him to learn, laughing gleefully when he tells them of how happy his star will be to watch him perform this new intergalactic ballet. The sounds of the universe thin out slightly as he travels further from the centre where his star is, but he still searches for the treasure trove of music that he can unlock and capture to take to Yuuri, and offer as a gift for his beloved.

Neither of them spoke about what they meant to each other. Victor was Yuuri’s first comet, perhaps the first of many. Yuuri was Victor’s star, the first star that had a pull so strong that he had kept him in orbit for all this time.

Comets almost always fall in love with their stars. The gorgeous colours and the strength with which they glow when they dance close to the flames that burn them are too wonderful to resist. They dance closer and closer, moving in time with the music the star will create for them, to keep the comet happy. For the star, to watch their comet sublimate and shine this way is beautiful, but a painful reminder that their visitors are temporary.

Comets only live for a few million years at the most.

Stars live for billions, and the smaller, duller stars like Yuuri can burn for a trillion years.

Stars don’t usually fall in love with their comets.

They can’t bear to be alone.

The first half of Yuuri’s time with Victor is playful, and light, all songs and dances and desperate unspoken wishes to be close to one another. Smoke dances, and close embraces, songs and pirouettes, their love grew stronger, rippling out across the stretch of Yuuri’s gravitational field.

Their first kiss happened in the middle of their dance together on the thin thread of time.

✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:*

Yuuri watched patiently, secure in the knowledge that his comet would come. He saw the glint in the distance, the one that sent his heart into a frenzy, helium bouncing up and down against his ribcage as he tried to contain his excitement. Slowly, painfully, Victor burst through Yuuri’s gravitational distance, slowing himself so that he didn’t overshoot his orbit, and allowed his body to be dragged into the same safe space he always travelled, miles above Yuuri, always disappointed that his memory had remembered their distance to be closer.

_ Hello, Yuuri. _

Victor’s words landed softly on Yuuri’s shoulders, erasing the tension and the sunspots that burned there during his absence. The brown and the black melted in swirls of orange, and yellow, red tinging only his cheeks as his comet smiled down to him.

_ Hello Victor. Shall we dance? _

Yuuri stretched his hand out, and Victor shook his head.

_ Can you sing for me? I need to rest. _

Shock sent alarm bells ringing in Yuuri’s head. Victor never wanted to rest. He always threw himself into a dance, ready to catch smoky Yuuri and throw him into a lively jive he had learned millions of miles away.

Yuuri nodded, clearing his throat before serenading Victor with a gentle melody, almost like a lullaby. Victor’s hair glowed again, the silver light extending high and far above him into the blackness, which melted into a gorgeous display of blue and grey. The notes reached him seamlessly, and they helped relax the tense rocky centre that always barrelled and dragged his form closer to Yuuri. It took all of his willpower to hold himself back, to stop himself from throwing his body into Yuuri’s burning prison, the embers that rolled around Yuuri so inviting despite their promise of imminent death.

As time passed, and Victor made his way almost a third of the way around his orbit, Yuuri’s song rose and fell with the rhythm of the comet’s pulsing aura, the platinum light flickering with interference from the glitter of the stardust that swirled around Victor’s delicate orbit. Yuuri could feel the sad pulses from Victor, could almost hear the sound of his skin turning to vapour. He pushed with his gravity, the weak field around Victor yielding instantly to his push.

Not once did his eyes leave Yuuri’s, the delicate blue tinged orange with the sphere that circled Yuuri, that kept him locked to the centre of the body of the star. Yuuri remembered the precious jewels that rained onto the distant planets that Victor had painted for him, and his song melted to recall these vibrant dances. The sparkle in his eyes widened in shock at the push, and Yuuri panicked, almost bringing him closer despite himself. When he was happy he raised his voice slightly, allowing the notes to reach a little further than Victor, to surround him, to comfort him. The tension between them melted with the reassuring song that surrounded him and his orbit.

Softer, still, Yuuri sang, until the song again rang between the two of them, carefully considering the song while working on his surprise, his body secretly smoking and waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

As the song faded, and Victor’s eyes closed gently in his sleepy orbit, Yuuri brought his hands to his face, planting his lips to the atoms that battled beneath his palms, the dark grey smoke thinning as he blew it up, and out to the sky.

Victor’s eyes fluttered open, aware of the change of Yuuri’s pull, and he watched as Yuuri’s torso crossed the darkness that separated them. Drawing closer and closer, Victor leaned into the distance, smiling delicately at the grey smoke that, when it collided with his own blue vapour, faded to a soft lilac, purple and grey blended to print his star’s face clearly against the burning amber that glowed beneath them.

Victor didn’t look down, couldn’t face the real star, who was not actually there at all. His core fluttered, and melted, as his eyes regarded the face that swam through the space in front of him.

His star had practiced, and had waited, until he could show Victor this moment.

The smoke approached, and the eyes of the shadow Yuuri blinked with the golden embers that had travelled up with the momentum of the figure.

But when his face was in front of Victor, the light flickered, and Victor knew.

Yuuri was up there with him.

The shadow held its form, pushing from the indistinct clouds that billowed beneath the torso, because all of Yuuri’s gravity was working to hold him and his comet in this moment. His atoms were gnawing their way out from his chest, but he held his resolve. It burnt, he could almost hear the fire surrounding him that was folding and folding again and again, and he worried he may collapse from the pressure he was applying to himself. The weight of his own form holding above him, despite the flames and despite the ringing in his ears, time stopped.

For a single, silent moment, Yuuri was rising out of his centre, and reaching for his comet.

He was so close, his senses were linked to the shadow, and he could smell the ice that vibrated in anticipation, shedding crystals that fell to the flames, burning a brilliant white before fading to nothing.

Their lips touched, and Victor leaned into the kiss, breathing cool air down Yuuri’s smoky throat as he opened his mouth. The sigh settled in Yuuri’s chest, and they sat, suspended, for a second, for a lifetime, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Victor’s eyes closed, and he could feel Yuuri losing his grip.

_ Hold it together. _

The words were muttered against the insubstantial skin, cool air shifting the smoke that was already fading.

_ I’m trying. _

Yuuri whispered out to the void, holding his nerve, forcing the smoke that was left behind forward and strengthening the figure that was hovering between his physical body and the comet that was sighing into nothing.

It was all he could manage; time started again, before he slowly faded out. Smoke separated but enveloped the comet, who again sighed out into the void. His breath disturbed the smoke as it spiralled, and Yuuri’s last bout of strength was used to embrace Victor in the cloudy blanket his shadow had left.

He collapsed backwards, breathing deeply, unable to stop the grin that was stretched across his face, interfering with the sun spots that spiralled into life on his cheeks. Victor too fell down again, laying on his hair gently and watching the distant star lovingly. How he wished he was down there, able to kiss his star whenever he wished without exhausting him in this way.

Yuuri rolled up, gripping to the flames that stopped him falling into nothing, smiling up at his comet, desperately clinging to the memory of Victor’s lips on his, of the soothing cold air that settled the atoms that were now rioting beneath his skin.

Victor smiled down to him, pressing his face to his hand and blowing a soft vapour cloud down through the flames. They separated, and Yuuri received the soft kiss that recalled the memory of smoke, invisible lips pattering across his own and round to the delicate skin on his neck, pressing into the flames before dissolving, spread across the fiery skin that licked at the imprint with loose flames that Yuuri ignored.

Silence stretched the time they had left. Smoke and vapour travelled the space and time between them, exploring with distant kisses the bodies that they desperately craved.

It was not enough.

But it was all they had.

As always, Victor slowly fell out of orbit, leaving the train of his tail glittering with the memory of his face, his skin, and leaving Yuuri with an aching loss in his chest.

A small cloud of vapour travelled backwards, thrown to Yuuri underneath the tail as he flew out into the great unknown.

_ I’ll miss you every day. _

The millennium that followed this first real and romantic exchange felt like it lasted a lifetime for Yuuri. Over and over, his mind recreated the image of his comet’s face after that first, painful kiss. His lips tingled when he thought about it, remembering the cool air that passed the smoky lips, as though he could feel the change down in the fiery depths of his spiralling flares. His dreams were filled with cool hands, icy crystals scattering as his hands ran along the skin that melted at his fingertips, lips on his and the two of them colliding in a burst of ice and flame that would never survive as long as it did in his dream. The ice held as long as the flames did, melting but still emanating a feeling as strong and as powerful as Yuuri’s flames.

For years before his comet he longed for a visitor, but he wished he had considered how attached he would have gotten.

Minako told Yuuri that one of her comets had sublimated completely, leaving her with nothing but the swirling memory of the tiny ice rock that had landed on her surface. The brighter they burn, the sooner they fall, Minako should have warned him.

But it was too little too late.

Usually young stars, and red dwarves in particular, don’t get to keep a long period comet. Greater gravitational forces usually pull the comets their way, larger stars holding these beautiful beings hostage and leaving the small stars to find companionship with tiny planets that swim into their orbit.

Yuuri was the first dwarf that Minako had heard of keeping a comet for such a long time. But, though she would never admit it, she had noticed the difference in Victor’s visits. His hair grew longer and longer, and she could hardly see his form because he glowed so brightly. She watched as Yuuri pulled him into orbit, and they struggled to regulate the distance, Victor being drawn closer and closer to the terribly dangerous flames that, from this distance, seemed to lick his skin, involuntarily flaring away from Yuuri.

She was unsure of how to approach this subject with Yuuri.

Yuuri, meanwhile, spent the years that Victor spent away from him conversing with his shadow self, dancing playfully across the flames that lined his feet, kicking the ash and embers up around him while he counted down the days.

Slowly, the millennium wound down, and Yuuri sat waiting patiently for his comet. A simple song played with the lines he traced across his gravitational field, painting patterns that only he could imagine. Anxiety bloomed visibly across his skin in dark patches and sun spots as time stretched thinner and thinner. The star longed for his comet, and eventually, finally, he saw the silver light flicker in the distance.

Time almost stopped, his heart leapt to his throat, and he held his gaze on his blurry, distant comet.

The black that was their patch of sky blurred with every moment, as Victor crawled closer and closer. Of course, he wasn’t flying that slowly, but Yuuri was so anxious to have him in his orbit, his impatience was tangible in the elements that swirled around his form. Victor’s musical laugh travelled through the vacuum that separated them, or so Yuuri imagined it to as he pushed with his gravity, like he always did.

Victor rolled into his orbit naturally, partially concealed by his flowing hair, before he separated strands with his fingertips, his eyes glistening mischievously through the gaps. Yuuri laughed, grateful that his comet seemed to have recovered from his tiresome journey. He had been so worried since his last visit, and he longed to have the comet in the relative safety of his orbit, where he could see and feel him, and know that he still existed out there.

Pushing through his hair, and wrapping it playfully around his shoulders, as though protecting his already ice-cold skin from an imaginary chill, he danced to show his new clothing to Yuuri. The young star blushed sunspots as the rippling, flowing, living hair enveloped his beloved comet, and undulated around his body, revealing and covering moments before the comet could catch it. Victor laughed, before throwing the cover of his now shining hair away, revealing the crystals that glistened ever brighter with the closeness of the star. Yuuri laughed, smiling at the comet, and waving a kiss up through the atmosphere.

_ Yuuri. Sing for me. _

Willingly, Yuuri bowed his head, and opened his mouth, and this time his song was just for Victor. The notes that danced across his gravitational field only reached Victor, who flew into a frenzy of twisting limbs, pirouettes and pliés, arching backs and fragile hands burning once again much brighter than before. Long, overflowing hair and fluidity twirled to Yuuri's words, and the dance that Victor presented was a tale of a far-off blue planet, the blue planet that Victor had fallen in love with all those years ago, with its new, clunky, shiny satellites that didn’t dance or sing, and the one beautiful satellite that was lonely, and fed up with the planet who wasn’t satisfied with just her. The terribly unattractive satellites that passed between her and her planet caused terrible interference, and she hated it.

She was silver and gorgeous, glowing and precious, and madly in love with the sun.

The sun, which kissed her every night, and who longed to embrace the cold side that turned away from her, wondering how something as gorgeous as she got stuck in the field of something that couldn't love it like she could. The story told of how the sun danced every day, in the hopes that the moon would come around quicker, and how every day was still the same, and the moon still took the same slow seconds to face her love.

The moon loved the sun, and the sun made the moon shine, and the blue planet took both for granted, reaping the rewards of their love story that was laid bare for them across a dazzling blue sky.

When the dance was done, Yuuri was crying, and his song had slowed until Victor had stopped dancing, and watched with baleful eyes as his star mourned their own distance. The song and dance, while beautiful, were tinged with the bittersweet pain that reminded them of the space between them, the distance that neither could do a thing about.

_ You feel so far today. _

It was true. Yuuri was trying his hardest not to hurt his comet, and because he knew he could feel him with the false form of smoke he could create, he had tried to separate their physical bodies with the gravity he had learned to control.

_ I don’t want to hurt you. _

_ It’s too late for that, Yuuri. _

Deep in his core, Yuuri could feel the blackest sunspots ripple outwards, spiralling outwards from a place deep in his chest and flaring from his skin. The aura surrounding him grew dim, and the anxiety that gnawed at his being whenever Victor was away was suddenly bursting at the seams to reveal itself. Victor threw himself back in show, watching the star in front of him grow cold, dim, even if he only imagined the change of temperature.

_ Yuuri! What’s wrong? _

Trying to regulate his shine, Yuuri opted for honesty.

_ If you fly too close- _

_ That’s not up to me, Yuuri. _

The reply was soft, comforting, and much cooler than the nuclear reactions fizzing internally in Yuuri’s skull. His aura had grown dark, and the heat that was supposed to be burning out into the stratosphere was rolling back to Yuuri, collapsing again and again until he couldn’t contain it himself, and the atoms almost visibly danced away from his skin in little spirals, pushing and flying without a purpose or direction. Victor laughed.

_ Yuuri… It’s okay. _

Victor had no idea how to respond to the ashy tears that flowed down the face of his beloved. The smoke that spiralled from the tracks carved into his cheeks was blacker than black, harsh and hot compared to the smoky body that Yuuri usually made when they were together.

_ Yuuri. Hush, I’m sorry. _

He knew that no amount of words would change what he had already said, or what was already carved out in their future. He knew how his life would end, and he had come to terms with that. But what he hadn’t considered was when Yuuri’s end would come.

Which, according to the planets he had spoken to, was far longer than he had hoped.

_ Maybe I am not the comet you wanted. _

With this, the melancholy sounds that echoed from the star’s core stopped. Yuuri looked up, eyes burning through space to pierce Victor’s heart, causing him to wince despite the safety of the distance that was between them.

_ Victor. Why would you say that? _

Suddenly, the tears came thicker and faster than before. The smoky pillars were now throwing themselves past Victor, and flares rippled helplessly into the surrounding area. Victor dodged, his shoulder slightly singed by a rogue flare.

_ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- _

_ What did you mean? I need you, Victor, without you, I have nothing. Not even a lonely planet to keep me company. _

Victor blinked at this, confused.

_ Yuuri, you do have a planet. _

Yuuri stopped, blinking slightly through the ash that still clouded his vision.

_ No, I don’t. _

_ You do, he’s right here. He was here last time too. _

Victor’s hand pointed down to a little planet. It was slightly rocky, but this rock was only slightly visible as a red spike that poked through the sulphurous gas that swirled around the atmosphere. The planet blinked, before beaming at Yuuri, and shouting so his voice appeared louder than the comet. It was quiet, though, and the poor little planet rotated much faster than it should as it tried to raise its voice.

_ Yuuri! Yuuri! Hello! I can’t believe we can dance together! _

Victor shook his head, and folded his arms. Already, he felt as though he was coming out of orbit. His eyes pierced harder than Yuuri’s had, and his voice carried a weight that Yuuri had never known before.

_ I can’t believe how closed you’ve been, Yuuri. This will not do at all. How can you expect yourself to burn for so long if you are not looking after the other beings that fall into your orbit? _

With that, Victor turned, flicking his tail out and allowing his body to fly away. He did send a kiss down with his final words, but Yuuri still felt stunned at the sudden change of events.

Yuuri watched his comet leave, and couldn't help but feel mad at himself for this turn of events. And Victor was right, of course. He was so closed off to the possibility that anything could rely on him for their survival, that he could be a sun for a collection of planets that would eventually fall into his orbit. Granted, this was one lonely planet, small and newly formed, so a little unstable, but eager to learn the planetary dance that it could match to Yuuri’s orbital songs.

So instead of Yuuri’s usual moping, he turned to face his planet, embarrassed at his inability to notice the now obvious change in his gravitational field.

_ Hi hi hi, Yuuri. So, can we dance? I have been watching you for years now. _

The thought stung Yuuri. Even though he often felt lonely, this poor planet was outright ignored by its star. Yuuri couldn’t stand the guilt eating away at his core.

_ Sure thing, Minami. _

Yuuri couldn’t explain exactly why he knew the little planets name, but by the explosion of magma from the red peak just visible through the swirling yellow atmosphere, he was positive it was correct.

And so, for that millennium, the little planet’s slow and steady orbit allowed Yuuri the chance to carefully show him the kind of dances he should be able to do. The planet followed carefully, hanging on the star’s every word, and throwing its atmosphere into brilliant spiralling displays.

Time passed a lot quicker than it ever had, and Yuuri was enjoying having a companion while he waited for the comet to return. He enjoyed engaging in playful songs with his young planet, laughing as the planet tripped every so often on the more complex moves that the star was familiar with. He even laughed with the planet, and the planet laughed back. Together, they had fun, and by the time Victor had started to approach the star, Yuuri barely noticed.

It was only when he felt the slight tug on his gravitational field that he turned to catch his comet. He was nervous as Victor approached, concerned with the way they had left things last millennium. It was a long time to feel disappointed, and Yuuri had longed for Victor to return so he could show that he was not the terrible star he thought he was.

Thankfully, Victor bounced into his orbit, literally beaming as he approached the star and his planet. Minami spun to show Victor that he had finally been noticed, and Victor knowingly nodded to the planet. Yuuri relaxed, the sunspots plaguing his skin melting as his comet turned his eyes towards him. The planet turned outwards to watch the other stars in the cluster, the ones that were awake, who sent flares out to entertain him while his own star was focussed on the comet.

He barrelled into his orbit, pushing with his own miniscule gravitational field playfully to disturb the orb that circled around Yuuri. Victor’s hair spun around his body, as gorgeous as Yuuri remembered, and his laugh echoed and vibrated around Yuuri’s gravitational field. With a slender hand outstretched, Victor bowed, the skin on his fingers flaring brilliantly as they leaned a little too close to Yuuri’s involuntary flares. Yuuri beamed, literally, a huge grin causing more flares to bounce from his skin, which was brightening as every moment passed.

_ I have a new dance to teach you, Yuuri. _

_ You’ve never taught me before. _

_ I didn’t have to, but this one is different. _

Yuuri imprinted himself into the shadow, and threw the form up through the atmosphere. Victor caught him, dipping his torso before snapping him up to his chest. Slowly, gracefully, he guided the smoke into a dance that Yuuri felt burrow deep beneath his skin. Even from below, cool steam crawled along his skin, remnant from the smoky Yuuri that danced with his comet.

The feeling was unusual, and it pulled a song from Yuuri, even though his energy was focussed on his imprint. It was the kind of slow song that can bring a tear to your eye but still you hold a smile on your face, thankful for the knowledge that the song will one day end, but the love of which it tells will never die.

This song travelled further than Yuuri could imagine, stirring Minako from her slumber. Graceful, feminine tones blended with Yuuri’s, and she watched from the distance as the comet danced with the shadow of the star. She cried, hot tears of ash falling from her eyes as she watched the comet burn bright, his coma extending further back than she had ever seen. White and blue blended with the orange flames of Yuuri’s bubble, and she wished that she could do something more than sing.

Her voice travelled to the couple as they danced, and Victor nuzzled into the chest of the smoke figure, almost throwing Yuuri off from his concentrated wave of gravity. He could feel the force that he was manipulating to hold the form of his shadow together, and also to keep Victor from floating too close, wavering slightly.

Once Victor was finished with his dance, he gently bowed to the smoke and to Yuuri, signifying he could let go if he needed to. The smoke dissipated, scattering as it always did in a circle around Victor’s form, the last embrace that Yuuri could offer before he collapsed into the blanket of flames that cradled his body.

_ It really takes it out of you, doesn’t it? _

Victor’s pale skin shone brilliantly as he leaned down to the star, his voice comforting and low, nestled in the crook of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri nodded.

_ It’s worth it. I can rest for a millennium after you leave. _

The words didn’t mean to sound as bitter as they did, and Victor gasped quietly. The noise stung slightly, but Yuuri was unsure of what to say next.

_ I wish I could stay with you forever, Yuuri. _

_ I wish that I could keep you forever, Victor. _

The star and the comet circled one another, the silence pressed heavily on their chests. The inevitability of what was coming next did not get any easier, no matter how many times they parted.

Still, despite their best efforts, Victor’s tail snaked back out into a near straight line, shaking in the natural flow of the galaxy, and still he turned and threw his goodbye vapour down to the star, whose skin was now strewn with sunspots.

_ My Yuuri. See you soon. _

And with that, he was gone.

It was harder and harder to wait with every visit. Minako watched woefully, as Yuuri’s orb burned darker and harder when his comet was away.

She asked Mari what she should do. Mari had no answer.

Yuuri would have to learn the hard way. It wasn’t like either of them would be able to stop it from happening.

The next few visits were just as painful. Victor burned just as bright, if not brighter, and Yuuri continued to sing the lowest, sad song as the comet spun around him. Longing permeated his every note, pulling the strings of his gravitational field tragically, and the comet responded accordingly.

The end was drawing in.

Yuuri knew something was wrong with Victor. His movements were slower, and he struggled to balance in the orbital lines Yuuri lined up for him. He spent many orbits floating silently, allowing the shadow Yuuri to plait his hair, or sing him a lullaby.

Yuuri was worried, and this time, when Victor settled down for his orbital nap, Yuuri sent a smoky kiss upwards, with a message concealed inside.

_ Victor. How long do we have? _

Victor’s eyes glittered with the crystallised tears that never fell. Instead they scattered from his face, floating and melting in the heat that Yuuri couldn’t help but emanate.

_ Yuuri. You know what’s happening. I know you can feel it too. _

_ Victor. _

The silence rang out, tense and filled with the words that failed them both.

Yuuri pushed Victor slightly further away, creating a new line that he hoped would slow the process as much as possible.

But something happened when he pushed.

The weak field that Yuuri felt tugging his shoulders up resisted, and this time, it held. Victor didn’t budge, and a devilish smirk stretched across the glittering face as it watched Yuuri struggle for a few moments.

_ You’re not pushing me away, Yuuri. Not this time, and not ever. _

The promise was clear, and Yuuri gave up, choosing instead to embrace the distance between them, hoping he could control his shine a little better than he was used to.

Hiroko and Toshyia watched from the side-lines, bitterly aware of the fact that the sun that they watched was going to get hurt. They circled each other, gently tugging their own gravitational fields so that they overlapped and interlaced.

Minako, too, caught sight of the star and his lover, and she couldn’t help the slow song that rumbled in her chest, moving the aura that embraced her so that it vibrated, and shined as brightly as possible.

Almost like a switch had been hit, as though someone had decided to illuminate the scene, Yuuri was conscious that he was being watched by the stars that he called family. The two star-crossed lovers, laid bare on the stage, harsh lights burning too brightly, blinding them both to the millions of eyes that stared through the glare. The star blushed hot with sunspots, gazing around to the stars that were shining too brightly around him, concealing them in a halo of brilliant white light.

Victor could care less; his attention was on Yuuri. The star’s sunspots intrigued him, and he longed to ease the burning sensation with the cool of his fingers, the skin that shimmered with every visit to his star.

He knew he was burning out. He had lived for millions of years, long before he had met Yuuri and longer than any other long period comet he had heard of. The friends he had made along the way, the shorter comets that roamed their small portion of the galaxy, had mostly burned out as Victor had grown, collecting dust, and ice, and debris from the longer-lasting planets as he passed solar systems and constellations and burnt out stars. He had built a skin so thick, he didn’t know what it felt like to bask in the glow of a star that sang just for him. He had forgotten what stars sounded like when they sang, mostly because they focussed their songs on their own planets, their own satellites, and he had never had a star that held him in orbit every time he visited.

So he watched, his eyes shining bright as he leaned his face forward into the surprisingly soothing warmth that was causing his skin to melt, his face and shoulders slick with the water that slowly evaporated into vapour around his face, spiralling out into his hair, the comma that trailed behind him as he moved forward.

Yuuri’s attention finally returned to him. Their exchanged whispers were soft kisses, smoky lips and touches travelling the millions of miles between them, pushing through the atmosphere that surrounded Yuuri. Vapour, and crystals that glittered as they fell, landed on Yuuri’s lips, his cheeks, and the comet and the star rotated for years, watching each other with nothing but love in their eyes.

Eventually, Yuuri sent a message to his comet.

_ Why don’t you visit the blue planet? _

The question was so random, and Victor paused for a moment as he considered it. His face stared off into the dark unknown, his eyes tracing the track he followed whenever he left Yuuri’s orbit, while he measured his response. Narrow eyes watched the star as he whispered into his hands, gently allowing the words to succumb to the pull as they fell to the star. Yuuri had heard the words before, and he knew the answer.

_ Yuuri, if I visit the blue planet I will never come here again. Comet’s only land once in their lifetime. _

Yuuri heard the words, but the weight of them took a moment to register. His eyes grew dark with the thought of Victor landing on a planet that was on the other side of the galaxy. Their distance was already unbearable, the elliptical pattern that Victor followed holding him painfully close but just out of Yuuri’s reach. It felt incredibly unfair to Yuuri, for this beautiful and unattainable creature to fall into his life, so graceful and so madly in love with him, only for the two to never really be together.

_ Besides, I know where I would rather land. _

Victor’s voice came soft, suggestive, and the tilt of his head reflected the sentiment. The realisation dawned on Yuuri, and a sad smile pulled at the corners of his lips. The ache in his chest drowned the feeling of the atoms rippling in his stomach whenever he looked at Victor.

_ You are so far away. _

Yuuri’s voice broke, the smoke cloud bursting as his head dropped into his hands, sobs rocking the gas cloud that shrouded him in heat and flames. Victor sighed, lowering himself into a forward-facing position, extending his hands as much as he could to the star.

It broke his heart to see the star collapse, shaking every flare that held his form together. Sparks and ash burst from the face of the star, and Victor could only watch as he rotated around the star in his usual arc. There was nothing he could do, apart from send down kisses and promises, his vapour clouds softly soothing the star’s sobs.

Eventually, the sad sounds that rippled through the gravitational field died down, and Yuuri sat silently, avoiding making eye contact with the comet. He could feel Victor as he started to drift further out of orbit. He waited until Victor was straightened out, and his final whisper of encouragement had travelled the miles that stretched between them.

_ You are never away from me, Yuuri. Wherever I fly, you are with me always. _

That final sentiment resonated with Yuuri. He looked after his comet, who was still vibrating across the gravitational field. Yuuri pulled his planet into a song for Victor, as the comet flew away from his orbit. The silver head turned, throwing a smile back to the little solar system that was starting to form. As Victor flew out of Yuuri’s gravitational field, he could imagine the lines of small planets that would orbit his star, for many years after Victor left. He knew that his star would have an abundance of satellites, all with their own systems rotating and dancing to the music that the star would selflessly create for his planets.

A crystal tear fell from his face, hanging in the air with the dust from the tail that trailed behind him, as he flew onwards into the far reaches of the galaxy.

Yuuri watched, as did Minami, waiting until his comet shone no more.

The millennia that followed this encounter worked the same. Yuuri played with his planet until Victor returned. Minami would turn to face the other stars, who would dance and shine for him, creating flares and patterns for him to copy with his own limited gases, while Yuuri danced quietly with his comet.

He noticed how much longer Victor’s hair was growing, almost creating a large ring around Yuuri as he completed his orbit, and lingering far longer than it ever had before. His skin glowed far more vibrantly, incandescent and terrifying.

But still, even now, Yuuri was too captivated by the beauty of his comet to push him away. It was selfish, but he longed for the times when he could dance and sing with his comet. He knew, deep down, that the longer his comet was here, and the closer he pulled him into orbit, couldn’t possibly end well. And he knew, above all things, that neither the comet nor the star would change a thing.

Apart from, perhaps, their obvious desire to be together indefinitely.

On one particular visit, one that stood in Yuuri’s memory as perhaps his favourite visit, was the one with the gift.

 


	3. Shine On;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the end of a wonderful story that made me feel for floating rocks in the far reaches of the universe.  
> First, as always, I am so grateful to have worked with [Moose](https://twitter.com/butleronduty) on such an amazing AU. I can't wait to work on more with her! I have loved her art for a long time and I'm so happy to have made a friend through this anime!  
> Secondly, thank you to everyone that has bought our book-version of this fic, and to those of you who have followed this AU from the very beginning.  
> And finally, thank you to Yuri!!! On Ice for inspiring me and so many others to create.  
> Thank you, and enjoy.
> 
> Edit: I have no idea what I would do without the lovely [izzyisozaki](http://izzyisozaki.tumblr.com) reading my work twice to catch mistakes!

The problem with a rather wide gravitational field, especially one that overlaps with other fields, is that it's very difficult to stop space debris from falling into your orbit.

  
Throughout the years, Yuuri watched the empty space around him fill and empty of this collection of rock, scatterings of dust catching the light from his shine, and icy particles melting before they had even fully entered his gravitational field. None of the rubble ever flew close enough to him to make a difference to him, really. It was never sentient, never carried a message. All it did was cause interference to bother his gravitational waves, and, if it were big enough, give him the false hope that his comet had returned sooner than expected.

  
One day, he watched a rather large asteroid, flung from Mari’s gravity, fly towards him faster than his gravity could react. As it barrelled across the blackness separating him and his sister star, and as it approached the dangerous heat emanating from his aura, the rock flared, burning crust and dust peeling like a shell as it gained traction across the sky. Minami watched in awe, trying to time his lava spurt with the passing rock and failing, ejecting magma that lit the deep red rock momentarily, bright against the mostly dull sulphur gases swirling on his surface.

  
The rock travelled at supersonic speed, continuing past Minami’s orbit, heading straight for Yuuri. Instinct kicked in, and he held his hands out to try and catch the rock as it continued to shrink, to shine. It broke through the ball of gas that constantly spun around him, bursting instantly into flames before dropping to the centre, where Yuuri’s hands were outstretched, ready and waiting for whatever was falling to him.

  
The flames surrounding him had caused the giant rock that was bigger than his body to shrink so dramatically that he could hold it tight in the palm of his hand. When he decided to inspect the artefact, it buzzed in his fingers from the heat that made his very being. It was incredibly small, still circular, but a hole had been punched through the centre, and the rock itself was not a rock at all. Covered in ash from the molten fingertips that handled it, Yuuri’s light caught patches of the true metal that was hidden beneath the dust.  
Curious, he folded the piece in his hands, regarding it gently, testing how pliant the metal was with his heat. He could mould it, he found, but only slightly. It reminded him of the rings of the far-off planet in Victor’s stories, the ones that settled in a strange pattern around the centre, spinning faster than the planet itself and forming a gorgeous halo in any sky they appeared in.

He wondered.

  
It worked.

He patted the ring around his hands before tucking it safe into the swirling atmosphere around him, hoping that new and unusual patterns would form while he waited, manipulating his aura patiently until his comet returned. He watched as smoke involuntarily spiralled from his shoulders, clouding his vision slightly. Despite the countless times he had waited for Victor, and despite the fact there was a reassurance in the back of his mind that Victor would return, like he always did, Yuuri still felt nervous.  
He was worried that his comet might have changed his mind, ignoring the obvious that Victor had very little choice in the matter. Even if he did, the comet was so obviously smitten with the star that he would always come back to him.

However, Yuuri still worried. He considered the possibility that something might have happened to Victor, that he had come across a rogue asteroid, or accidentally lost control in the belt of rock in the distant solar system he spoke so fondly of. But again, the voice in his head promised that Victor was safe, that he would know if something had happened.  
The inexplicable link between the star and the comet is impossible to define. They were drawn to each other; atoms, space, and an entire galaxy may come between them, but they will always find each other again and again.

This is what the voice told Yuuri, and it did ease his anxiety slightly.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the glint of silver that shot across the horizon caught Yuuri’s eye, and he stood up to get a better view of the body flying towards him through the sky. Minami could feel the electricity that sparked in Yuuri when he noticed his comet, and tried his best to apply his own gravitational field to catch the comet before it slingshot out of orbit.  
Victor’s hair, which trailed out for miles behind him, pale white brushstrokes disturbing the darkest of blacks that made up the backdrop to that fragment of the universe drowned the pinprick stars that glittered feebly in comparison. Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat, sunspots burning his cheeks as he took in the beauty of his comet, once again approaching his orbit, arms stretched out towards the star in an attempt to fall into a closer orbit than usual.

His arms, as always, were stretched towards Yuuri, a physical manifestation of the invisible gravity that held the two together. Yuuri smiled, unable to control the warm glow that rippled through his skin, erasing the remaining sunspots that plagued him when he was apart from his comet. As Victor approached his usual arc, he passed Minami, sending a shower of ice raining down on the excitable planet. Pure, childish laughter echoed around the orbital circles, enhancing the warmth that spread through Yuuri's chest as he watched the magic his comet shared with his planet.

Minami threw a play of magma surging over the sulphur clouds, a brief welcome before turning to face Hiroko, who sent a gentle flare up to entertain the young planet.  
With his planet now preoccupied, Yuuri’s attention turned to his comet. Victor’s skin shone brilliantly in his light, hot white fractals bursting from his skin and mingling with his comma. The light refracted, bouncing off the crystals he shed as his body fell into orbit. Floating peacefully, finally pulled into a stable orbit by Yuuri’s gravity, Yuuri could see his comet properly. He noticed the tired lines beneath his eyes, and the languid movements of his limbs as he conjured up images of the patterns he used to trace for Yuuri. The blinding light almost made these images invisible, but Yuuri’s trained eye roamed over the gorgeous planets and satellites Victor created for him.

Slow, dulcet tones rumbled deep in Yuuri’s chest, and for the first time in millennia, the two circled each other speechlessly.

Victor’s lazy dance complimented the quiet song that Yuuri sang for him, his long arms still creating gorgeous images that remembered the stories he had spent his life tracing for Yuuri.  
Yuuri’s field finally pulled with the tug of Victor’s own tiny field, moulding them both so that their orbits aligned properly, and Victor was drawn closer and closer to Yuuri.

When Victor raised his head to smile at Yuuri, his cheeks darkened slightly, as though they were warmed with Yuuri’s gaze.

_Victor! I have something to show you._

Curiosity glistened in the comet’s eyes, which were widened with wonder.

Yuuri breathed, lowering his arms, and allowing his voice to flow through his limbs louder than it rang from his lips. He could feel the pull from the comet, invisible waves wrapped like rope around his wrists and tugging them upward, trying to bridge the gap between them.

His song was not one that he had sung before. He wasn’t even sure he knew where this song came from, but he sang to Victor as though the whole universe wasn’t listening. An infinite number of stars littered the galaxy, some with a heartbeat like Yuuri, others lifeless and alone. His song explored the furthest reaches of the lonely universe that his fixed form could fathom, mostly tracing Victor’s trajectory through time and space, exploring the hidden planets with his body and his mind.

But halfway through this relatively melancholy dance, his eyes caught Victor’s, and they froze for a moment before the song changed.

As Victor fell into a comfortable orbit, he watched carefully as the star, for the first time since he visited all those millennia ago, laid his soul bare. This dance was for Victor, the comet who had flown faster than light into Yuuri’s life, and changed everything that star could possibly know forever.

Yuuri’s body twisted, leaped, gracefully poised in ways that Victor couldn’t imagine, but the more he watched, the more it made sense.

He was dancing like a star.

Yuuri flushed as he moved, not from exertion but because he could feel his gravity pulse as it grew heavier, thickening in the gap between himself and the comet. He was showing Victor just how much he loved him, and there was no way he could misunderstand.

As the dance was winding down, Yuuri reached down into the molten space beneath him. As always, it yielded when he pushed, and slender fingers pulled the small token out from the flames. The atoms melted in his hands, which he clenched so that he could recreate the smoky form that could touch Victor, that could show him exactly how to dance like a star. 

Familiar movements peeled a smoky shell from his skin, the imprint of himself heavier on the left hand side, thick purple smoke forced to compensate for the weight of his gift.  
The imprint Yuuri left shot up through the atmosphere, a column of smoke holding his form, battling the heaving gravity that Yuuri couldn’t control. When he finally reached the comet, he pushed with his mind into the eyes of the shadow, exploring the details of his comets face. There were small cracks denting his usually smooth skin, and despite the black and white projection, Yuuri could tell the comet was shining brighter than ever.

Ice cold hands wrapped around the torso, palms pressed softly against Yuuri’s lower back while Yuuri tried not to lose focus on the weight in his left palm.

His smoke face was slightly blurred, and he couldn't really see Victor properly while he focussed on holding his gift. Still, despite this, he noticed the change in Victor’s eyes, the warmth despite his icy exterior, the longing that was always just beneath the surface of their relationship, and the relief that he was finally where he belonged, caught in Yuuri’s orbit.

The comet pulled away slightly, helping the shadow hold its hand between them. He held his hand under the smoke, and waited until Yuuri had the strength to prise the fingers apart. Once he was certain Victor had control over his limbs, Yuuri distributed the smoke that he had forced to the left more evenly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the bright light from the comet. When his vision cleared enough, he saw the tears that formed in Victor’s eyes.

His words travelled not from the smoky lips, but from a space down below that seemed too far to be real.

_You gave me a part of your universe, and while our time together may be short, just know that when I burn, I burn for you. Always._

As the words travelled up to them, Victor guided the smoke, helping but allowing Yuuri’s form to do most of the work. The rock and metal had fused to form a ring that slipped perfectly on to Victor’s icy finger. It glinted with the battling light from both the comet and the star.  
Yuuri’s eyes didn’t once leave Victor’s. The comet’s expression was unreadable, stunned into silence, as he raised his hand in disbelief to his face for close inspection.

The star blinked, waiting for a response.

Maybe he had got it all wrong. Maybe comets didn’t love their stars. How had he misread this situation so badly?

The comet continued to move on his arc. His mind whirred with the sound of Yuuri’s final word, always, always, always. His own mouth formed the word, hesitating for a moment before he remembered where he was. His lips ghosted the hot metal, searing and painful, but beautiful and comforting.

Suddenly, his musical voice shook even Minami from his slumber.

_Oh Yuuri! It’s beautiful! It’s just like the rings on a planet, and it’s all mine. Yuuri._

The comet stretched his arm out to admire the rock, wiggling his fingers as he did so, catching the metallic pattern and beaming with pride at his gift. The metallic portions of the ring glittered brilliantly, the very real shine contrasting with the ethereal glow of Victor’s skin. Yuuri could not have anticipated the reception of his gift, but the words that followed billowed out of the smoke before he could stop himself.

_It’s not as beautiful as you._

The comet threw himself into the smoke for an embrace. Yuuri could feel the cool skin against his own, even down in the core of burning helium, and he closed his eyes so he could feel the hair that fell over his shoulder, the cool breath against his neck as Victor planted kisses into the air. His comet pulled back to reveal a brilliant grin, before dragging the shadow with him as he spun through the air.

_Dance with me, Yuuri._

For years they danced, holding each other but not really feeling the warmth of their embrace.

Yuuri threw his own arms around the comet’s neck, pushing with everything he had to feel the embrace to its full, his fingers tangling with the moonlight that made Victor’s hair shine.  
The two floated for years, spinning and ravelling themselves in blankets of smoke and vapour. Kisses and giggles held their forms together, escaping their intimate embraces every so often, until they lay together on the orbit line that Yuuri had traced.

Victor whispered into his hand, turning away from the smoke momentarily before glancing sideways, allowing the secret to float gracefully down to the real star below.

Yuuri almost lost his bearings as his real hand reached out to catch the whisper. It fell faster than usual, its cargo weighing it down dramatically. Yuuri sighed, the smoky hand disappearing so that his flaming hand could catch the vapour that trailed round his wrist, snaking up his arm and tickling his neck playfully while the words filled his ears.

_You are the light of my life, Yuuri._

His cheeks burned. Yuuri's imprint followed suit, dark grey embers burning just below the deep grey eyes, but Victor cooled them with a kiss.

All they had known, and all they ever would know, is the familiar and distant ghost of a touch, a taste.

Or so they thought.

As Victor guided Yuuri through one of their favourite dances, he pulled the body close to his, hands linked while the other traced circles into the air that was Yuuri’s lower back. The moment was perfect, and calm, but something snapped.

The strict lines that held them at their safe distance shattered, scattering across Yuuri’s orbital field, and making Yuuri jump with the shock. He could feel his own gravity failing, and panic rippled through his atmosphere.

_Victor!?_

The name burst from the star, and the comet laughed gently in an attempt to calm the situation.

_It’s okay, Yuuri._

_You’re breaking apart, you’re too close!_

Yuuri watched as chunks of ice broke off from Victor’s form, long strands of hair falling from his head as he continued to fall, faster and faster.

_Yuuri, don’t you see? I can finally fall. Finally, I can let myself fall._

Confused, the star watched as fire sparked around Victor’s hands, enveloping him as he fell straight through the atmosphere. Rock, ice, and the comma that had trailed all around Yuuri fell upwards, flying out into the distance while Victor fell down, deeper and deeper, shielding his face against the intense heat emanating from Yuuri’s core.

The star desperately and pointlessly tried not to shine so bright, tried to feel the burning of his skin deep in his chest in an attempt to protect the comet from what must have been a painful sensation. Yuuri couldn’t tell how Victor was feeling; the comet had covered his face with his weakened arms.

Yuuri pulled his aura in, trying his best not to shine as harshly, but after a while he stopped. Victor was shaking his head, depositing long curls of his comma as he did so. Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes. His comet had never looked so beautiful.

The white light emanating from his skin was the only thing that Yuuri could see. His gorgeous long hair grew longer with every moment, trailing far behind him, covering Minami’s tiny form, shielding him from the view of the events as they unfolded. The icy crystals that glittered across his skin started to shed, leaving the hint of a rainbow before dissipating into nothing but stardust. A smile played on his lips. He knew what was coming.

After a while, Victor broke through the aura that surrounded Yuuri. The helium atoms fizzed upon impact; Victor’s arm instinctively shielded his eyes as he burst through the scalding stratosphere. Again, Yuuri flinched, unaware of how to respond to the invasive motion of the comet as it continued faster than he liked towards the centre of the star.

Once he had completely torn down the barriers that stood between them, after falling for seconds that managed to stretch into centuries, he stretched his arms out, blinking against the powerful brightness that Yuuri couldn’t help but emanate.

And finally, when his eyes adjusted, he saw that Yuuri too had his arms outstretched, ready to catch Victor as he flew closer and closer. He couldn’t help the excitement that pushed him faster and closer to Yuuri, despite the pain, despite the heat, and despite the uncertainty of what lay ahead for him.

Their love had spanned their thread of time. Fire and ice, moving together and in harmony, was never supposed to last forever.

The thin thread they danced upon had to snap one day.

Victor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri’s neck, emitting a strange sound as the cold finally met the debilitating heat that caused his head to swim.

It hurt, it burned, the remaining ice holding momentarily against the burning star as their lips moved together. Yuuri’s eyes closed, lost in the moment as his comet lowered his hands to pull Yuuri’s arms around him. The star obliged, pulling the cool comet closer. After what felt like a lifetime, they pulled apart, eyes trained on the other while they realised what was happening.  
_You landed. Victor-_

_I know, Yuuri. I’m sorry. I wish I could have stayed for longer, but it is just my time._

Victor’s voice grew faint as it trailed off, the final sentiment ringing long in Yuuri’s ears while he considered his options.

There were none.

He had moments left, he could feel the time they had together closing, like a book, the heavy cover weighing down the pages of the greatest love story of all time.

Tears again stung Yuuri’s eyes, as they did in Victor’s eyes, but still Victor bowed, holding his hand out to pull Yuuri into the dance he had taught him all those years ago.

This time, though, was different. The song bounced against the walls of the atmosphere Yuuri closed around them, shielding the dance from the view of the rest of the galaxy. This dance was just for the two of them.

And the story it told was similar to the dance of the blue planet with its satellites. Still, it spoke of a terrible distance, of the heartbreaking loneliness the two felt, and the silver satellite that longed for the warmth and light from the sun.

But this time, everything was different. The lovers were not satellites, but stars and comets, and the distance wasn’t mourned because it was real. The distance was mourned because now it was happening; their souls were separating one more time, until they met again in another time. Their distance was the thread that had held their love story together for all those years, and that thread had almost unravelled completely.

Victor’s form was melting beneath his fingers, and while he tried his best to sing the song Victor deserved, his tears were ruining the notes. Victor just laughed, shaking his head and swiping the tears away pointlessly with his thumb.

_Stay._

The word escaped his lips before he knew what he was saying, the tears burning as the sunspots darkened even deeper across his face. They trailed along his neck, and Victor shook his head.

_I’m so sorry Yuuri._

He closed his eyes, planting a kiss on the star’s cheek despite the heat of the turns that must have hurt him.

_Does it hurt?_

_What hurts is leaving you._

Yuuri closed his eyes, trying to will them open in the fear he would miss the moment, but Victor just lowered his body onto Yuuri, much like the smoky Yuuri did when it collapsed into nothing.

_Finally. I’m home._

And with that final sentiment, Yuuri’s arms swung together, closing around his own body, and his comet was gone.

He opened his eyes sheepishly, the empty space in front of him inspiring the sunspots that had plagued him since Victor had entered his field to flower across his skin, covering every inch with dark brown blossoms that battled over each other for dominance. The pattern that Victor had traced as they had danced still hung in the air; the ring that Yuuri had given him had fallen into his palm as they held each other in their dance.

A pale line of starlight, the kind of white light Yuuri might one day emit, reached through the slight gap in his atmosphere, the line of Victor’s final night of flight. The hair that had been shed before impact hung about Yuuri, pulled by the ever-present gravity to form a ring around him, a gentle reminder of the patterns Victor would trace for him while he told the stories of all the far reaches of the galaxy that Yuuri would never visit.

He hadn’t stopped crying since he had realised this was Victor’s final visit. Even now, he refused to wipe away the tears that stung in his eyes, and he smiled slightly as he unwrapped his atmosphere to the great wide open. Constellations flickered light years away, and the memory of his comet made his heart swell, as though he too had travelled across the galaxy with the one that he called his love.

His family of stars joined his song of mourning, and for the billions of years that followed, Yuuri’s mournful tones reverberated around the space of the galaxy that his star cluster inhabited.  
His comet was gone, but what was left for him was a collection of songs, a lifetime of stories, and the fragile, beautiful ring that he had given to Victor.

He wished that his comet could have stayed, but he knew that his time had come. His dreams were filled of the very real memory of the cool hands around his neck, soothing the sunspots that continued to pulse and agitate his skin. Though he couldn’t help it, he wondered if the stories he had heard from Victor were true, and whether Minako had told him the story of two souls to make him feel better or to give him hope.

One day, Minako promised, when all the universe burns out, and when all the battles cracking deep inside Yuuri had finished, he would collapse like Victor, and the part of him that had loved the comet so ardently and sincerely would follow its course, finding Victor and dancing forever in the great wide open. They would always be together, she had promised, and one day Yuuri would be happy.

He did not regret his short time with the comet. He was grateful for the other stars, and he was grateful for his planets, that were still forming and collapsing around him for billions of years after Victor.

Yuuri was grateful for the songs that Victor had taught him. He was grateful for the dances, and the joy the comet had brought him.

Above all, Yuuri was grateful that his comet had taught him how to love.

✧・ﾟ: *✧・ﾟ:*


End file.
